


Flight of the...Penguins

by vatreniworld



Series: Luka Wins Everything [3]
Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Gen, Penguins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 07:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17157632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vatreniworld/pseuds/vatreniworld
Summary: FIFA should know better than to issue challenges to football fans.





	Flight of the...Penguins

**Author's Note:**

> Musical Inspiration: “Safety Dance” by Men Without Hats
> 
> Crossposted from my blog.

“Is Dalić okay?” Livi asked, a concerned frown pinching between his brows.

Luka glanced over at the bench to find Dalić hitting his head repeatedly against the metal support bars for the stands.

“Do I really need to answer that?” Luka sighed, dragging a hand down his face.

Croatia needed a win, especially after the match against Spain the previous month. At the rate things were going, though, Luka doubted that either team were going to land a shot in the goal.

The game slowed to a crawl not long after, both sides deadlocked.

“We need a miracle,” Raketa sighed.

“We need a distraction,” Dejan added.

Domo raised his hand in excitement.

Dejan pushed it down.

A bullhorn crackled in the distance.

“MAY WE HAVE YOUR ATTENTION?!”

The ref glanced into the stands, bemused.

“If we can’t come in, FIFA! Then we’ll send in reinforcements!” one English spectators bellowed from the top of the bleachers of the stadium.

“What the  _hell_  are they doing?” Raketa muttered, slicking his bangs out of his eyes.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this…,” Luka added, propping his hands on his hips.

Over on the sidelines, Dalić dropped his face in his hands, screaming, “Is it too much to ask for  _one day_  of normalcy?!”

“Ready, men?!” the supposed “leader” of the rag-tag group called from his position on the bleachers. After a rumbling of affirmative grunts, he raised his arms and cried, “Release the beasts!”

“Beasts?” Domo echoed.

“I should’ve called in sick today,” Luka groaned, pulling his headband out of his hair.

Without warning, the leader of the group threw something the size of a small dog over the stands, sailing over the middle of the pitch.

Dejan squinted at the projectile and squalled, “Duck!”

Domo piped indignantly, “It’s not a  _duck_! It’s a pen-oof!”

He fell backwards as the male Gentoo penguin collided with his chest.

Domo winced against the pain in the back of his head and opened his eyes to find the penguin glaring down at him with righteous fury.

“…nice penguin,” Domo whispered tensely.

The penguin responded by cawing directly in Domo’s face.

All hell broke loose from there.

One Gentoo saw Raketa’s streak of blond hair and decided that it was the penguin equivalent of the Holy Grail. With no warning, the penguin raised its flippers and charged at Raketa at full throttle before jumping straight into his gut, knocking the wind out of him.

Laid out flat, Raketa groaned while the penguin proceeded to poke and bite the highlighted streak of hair.

Trying and failing to bat the penguin’s ministrations away, Raketa cawed, “Get this thing off me!”

“WE’RE A BIT BUSY AT THE MOMENT!” Dejan bellowed as he tried to shake off two Gentoo who found his socks and cleats fascinating.

Luka took in the chaos of the field.

Harry Kane climbed on top of the goal post to avoid another assault from a particularly pudgy and mean penguin. “Go back to your rock nests and ice, you pipsqueak assholes!”

That, evidently, was the wrong thing to say since the penguin threw all his weight into his back and rammed the goalpost. How a body that small was able to generate enough force to knock Harry off the goal and proceed to curbstomp him, Luka would never know.

Domo was in the midst of some sort of karate match with his penguin, sporting bright red splotches from where a beak obviously found its mark.

Meanwhile, Livi was the proverbial Disney princess in every sense. He sat cross-legged in Croatia’s goal with two penguins in his lap while two more constructed a crown out of grass and placed it atop his head.

Luka blinked at the spectacle and sighed. “I’ve officially lost it.”

Out of his periphery, he caught sight of Dalić laying on the ground and staring at the night sky.

One assistant asked the referee with a frown of concern, “Should we continue the match?”

The ref sighed and shrugged. “Might as well.”

Twelve minutes later, Dejan scored a goal by accident in his continuous efforts to dislodge the persistent penguin attached to his cleat. The penguin did not appreciate hitting the ball or flying into the goal with it, thrashing on his back.

The ref blew the final whistle, muttering, “I’ll be at the bar if anyone needs me.”

Luka trudged off the field. While he appreciated the points, he wouldn’t exactly call that game a victory.

Livi gasped, offended and bolted across the field from Croatia’s goal to England’s. “Dejo!” he barked gruffly as he scooped the penguin in his arms. “How could you do that!”

“It tried to  _kill_  me!”

Luka met Dalić’s gaze across the field and silently acknowledged that they needed something stronger than just water to rehydrate.

* * *

A week later, Luka found himself along with the rest of the Real Madrid members slotted to play or substitute in the match versus Levante sitting in the locker room with Vanja leaning against the doorway that led to the main hall.

Vanja crossed her legs at the ankle and flipped through a series of notes on her clipboard.

“Vinicius and Mariano will be the primary strikers today,” she said matter-of-factly and continued to skim her outline of the game.

Vinicius looked around the room in confusion. He pointed at himself. “I’m starting?”

Vanja glanced up from her reading and nodded. “Why not? You’ve had some of the best chances in recent games. It only makes sense to play you.”

“Really?” he asked, hopeful. At Vanja’s frown he added, “It-It’s just that Lopetegui never started me.”

“Lopetegui isn’t here and he doesn’t get to choose who’s in the starting lineup anymore.” She lowered her clipboard to rest against her hip. “You up to starting?”

Vinicius straightened in his seat. “Yes, ma’am.”

Vanja nodded and turned to address everyone else, “As for the rest of you, I’m more concerned with you not trying to force plays. Don’t overthink it. Trust your bodies to make the right decisions.

“And  _please_  - for your sakes and mine - don’t pass the ball to the other team.” She pointedly looked at a handful of players before setting her notes aside. “Any questions?”

They shook their heads in unison. If only they could be that synchronized on the field.

Vanja smiled. “Excellent.”

Luka could only imagine the tongue lashing she’d give the lot of them if they managed to royally screw this game up. If it was anything to how she disciplined the kids, he’d have to keep gag Sergio to keep him from screaming.

“Let’s get going, then,” Vanja said, nodding towards the door, not waiting for the team to follow her out.

Once on the sidelines, Luka covered his eyes, a wave of deja vu washing over him.

“When I open my eyes,” he whispered to himself, “those creatures will be gone and I’ll get my eyesight checked after the game.”

To his disappointment, though, the sight in question was only clearer upon a second look.

Two penguins dressed in the appropriate assistant referee gear marched back and forth at their respective corners. It was a wonder how they managed to hold the batton for the flags in their flippers, but given the string of bizarre events and occurrences that took place between Real Madrid and Croatia National Team, Luka supposed he shouldn’t be surprised anymore.

Rapha nudged him with his elbow, murmuring, “Luka, please tell me you’re seeing this too.”

Luka nodded. “Yes. I wish I weren’t. But yes.” He frowned up at Rapha. “Why are you whispering?”

Rapha hid his mouth behind his hand, as though the penguins were going to read his lips next. “I keep thinking they’re going to stare into my souls and find out my deepest, darkest secrets. That or hogtie me in the closet like Ivano and Ema did.”

“Like Ivano and Ema did  _what_?!”

Rapha shook his head. “The Sevilla game. And they didn’t do it to me apparently because Vanja wanted me to still play in that game.”

“That’s what happened to the rest of the team?!”

“Will you stop shouting, Luka?”

Luka stood with his shoulders hunched, legs spread wider than his hips, holding his breath to keep himself from throwing a conniption fit.

“Which reminds me,” Rapha said, crossing his arms, “you never did explain what that  _zoom zoom_  thing was at the Sevilla game.”

Releasing all his air in a giant huff, Luka gaped, “We have penguins as assistant refs and  _that’s_  what you want to ask me?”

“Yes. In as much detail as possible, please.”

“No.”

“Oh, c’mooon, Lukita.”

Oblivious to the other conversations happening, Marcelo asked, “Since when are refs allowed to wear trench coats on the field?” He squinted at the distant figure. “Come to think of it, he’s awfully short for a ref, isn’t he?”

Luka pouted.

Marcelo held his hands up in surrender. “N-Not that there’s anything wrong with being short!”

“Thought so.”

Luka licked his lips and took a closer look at the supposed “ref.” “Why does this ref look so familiar?” he pondered under his breath.

Meanwhile, hidden inside the trench coat, Ivano hissed, “You didn’t say you’d weigh this much, Ema!”

Ema snapped back from her perch on his shoulders as she adjusted the fake mustache on her upper lip. “I wouldn’t be able to carry you!”

“Your power is telekinesis!”

“I think they’ll notice a floating person, Ivano.”

Ivano huffed, “Fine. Just don’t kick me.”

Back on the sidelines, Marcelo and Rapha shrugged.

“He must just have one of those faces,” Marcelo said.

Luka hummed, unconvinced, but thought nothing more of it as the ref called the teams out onto the field.

* * *

Vanja was right about Vinicius. The kid had a knack for creating opportunities and utilizing the ones made by others to the best of his abilities.

Unfortunately, the assistant refs - er, penguins - insisted he was offside for one of his goals.

Sergio moved forward to argue with one of the penguins, but one beady-eyed, cold look sent him shuffling the other way in the blink of an eye.

He glanced at the head ref for backup, but balked instead. “Your mustache is crooked, umm, sir.”

The ref deadpanned, “What mustache?”

Luka pressed his hand between Sergio’s shoulder blades and pushed him back into position.

As sad as it sounded, this was by far one of the most normal games Luka played in recent memory (penguins and mysteriously dressed refs included). At least he didn’t need to use his superspeed; or worry if his children were either physically threatening or literally threatening anyone or if Vanja was blackmailing Pérez.

With five minutes left in regular game play, the ref tripped over his trench coat and two bodies rolled out.

“Ema?! Ivano?!”

“I told you to watch out, Ivano!” Ema pouted, ripping the fake mustache off of her lip.

“Shut up! You should’ve just levitated yourself!”

Before the two of them could dissolve into a full-out brawl on the pitch, the penguins waddled onto the field, picked Ema and Ivano up in their flippers, and made a beeline for the locker room.

…which left the game with no referees.

“Sooooo, now what?” Marcelo asked.

“Search me,” Rapha sighed.

Vanja cupped her hands over her mouth and shouted across the field, “Just stay put! Replacements are coming!”

Before the teams knew it, three Emperor penguins stalked onto the field and moved to their appropriate spots.

When the main penguin blew the whistle, no one dared move a muscle.

Luka swerved his head in Vanja’s direction. “ _More_  penguins?! Really?!”

Vanja shrugged. “They have the highest ratings of any FIFA authorized official. Apparently FIFA got the idea from your game against England.”

“I wish I could say that surprised me,” Rapha said, “but it doesn’t.”

The penguin blew his whistle again and the game finished its final minutes until the clock reached full time.

Luka placed his hands on his hips and huffed at Rapha, “I can’t be the only one that saw those penguins carry my kids away, right?”

“Y’know, Lukita, sometimes I think your life would be a whole lot easier if you stopped questioning these things.”

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> It's amazing how many insane parts of this series I can churn out.


End file.
